writing spring while being in winter
((OOC: Explanation - Before getting into this mice drabble, it's based off another 'verse, made in part thanks to good friend angie, but the verse is so small and simple that I didn't know it had enough for a story summary. Simply, Minnie moves into a humble village and learns about/meets a lone bachelor, Mickey, who lives all by himself in a huge mansion with an even bigger garden. He's nearly/over ten years her senior - she around 18, him in his late twenties - and according to everyone in town, he is cold and heartless, only caring for his garden. But Minnie finds out from one of the older villagers that Mickey's parents died when he was very young, leaving him a massive inheritance. Throughout his childhood, all of his relatives and supposed friends continued to betray him in order to get their paws on his money, until he finally decided he would never trust anyone ever again, and now only uses his money on his garden. Naturally, love solves everything when it comes to these two. ))
He closed the book, and sighed, unsatisfied. Perhaps he should have known better - he had reread this particular novel so many times, he almost had it memorized by heart. It was foolish to think that giving it another read would ease his dull heart. Getting out of his seat, he moved to place the book back on the shelf, joining its other withered brethren. He idly glanced at the others titles, but decided no reading of them would give him the ease he desired. He was depressed, again, and there was probably only one real way to solve it.
Leaving the elaborate living room, he headed to the door all the way in the back of the mansion, leading to the gigantic backyard garden. Many years and many dollars had been invested into it, much to the protest of his neighbors. For a long time, it was the only thing that brought him a sense of purpose and any kind of happiness. Today was a warm day, with a clear sky, and once he was outside, he paused to look upwards. Would he need to re-water any of his plants? He would have to check up on every last patch of green to see if this was the case.
So he walked, with eyes drifting over every part of his majestic garden. It contained far more than just flowers. There were exotic plants from all over the world, tall trees looming in the furthest sides, and the sound of domestic bugs chirped as they passed him. When soft winds blew, they brought the entangled smells of all plant life, a perfume that could never be matched by human hands. These things brought him pleasure, and as his path continued, a smile came onto his face. As always, his garden cheered him up.
However... it wasn't at its maximum. This place did not bring him as much happiness as it used to, and he could not understand why. Something was just missing in his life, and he could not find the way to fill it. So perhaps this wasn't happiness... maybe it was contentment. A lazy satisfaction, perhaps. What was he supposed to do about it?
He would have continued lamenting this dilemma, passing by the weeping willows, when an unusual shade of red caught his eye. Back-tracking, he walked around the particular weeping willow tree, then looked downward. To his great surprise, there on the grass, nestled comfortably in the tree's shade, was a young girl, fast asleep. The audacity of someone coming into his garden - and sleeping there! - was so amazing, he had no idea what to do. With great hesitation, he dared to step closer for further inspection. Anyone else, he would have shouted and shooed them away, but this complete stranger was causing him to tip-toe.
This girl wasn't from the village, he was certain of it, as he had never seen her before from his looming windows. She was definitely younger than him by many years, though he couldn't confirm by exactly how much. She was on her side, hands flopped on top of each other, both legs on the ground, and black hair was helping to coat her face, an untied hair ribbon hanging loosely around one ear. Her dress was red, rose red, short and simplistic, and showed off more of her legs in this position than she probably intended. Her shoes were small, also red, and one was ready to fall off her left foot with enough time. Her entire body was petite, just a pretty young lady taking a nap in his garden.
What to do with her? Touching to wake her was out of the question, but he couldn't find the nerve to make sound for the same reaction either. How long had she been there? Why was she doing this? Who in the world was she? He stood there, tilting his head left, right, back and forth, struggling to find the right idea. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so perplexed.
She solved the problem for him - her shoulders yawned, and her eyelashes began to flutter. Hands pressed onto the dirt, she began to push herself up into a sitting position. He was so startled, he almost fell over backwards, and the tree supported him. The girl, not noticing him right away, yawned as she stretched her arms, with even her voice being petite. When that was finished, she began to smooth down her hair, and that's when she realized she was not alone. She crooked her head to see him, and their eyes locked.
Silence, save for the chirps of bugs. They didn't have the faintest idea of what to do about this sudden stranger, and appeared to wait for the other to make the first move. He finally broke the silence, but only because he felt rather silly for being intimidated by a little girl. “... What are ya doing in my garden?”
Her eyes widened as she understood, and she was instantly on her feet, speaking rapidly with barely any chance to breathe. “I'm so sorry! I didn't realize this place actually belonged to anyone! I just moved in next door and I was trying to see if I could grow my own garden and then I saw all of these pretty flowers over the fence so I hopped over and began to look around and then I got tired so I just thought I'd rest my eyes for a bit and I didn't think I'd actually fall asleep...” No more air was left in her lungs, forcing her to inhale deeply before continuing. “...And I'm very, very, very sorry!”
He stared at her, bewildered by the run-on sentence, and an unfamiliar sensation stirred in his throat. Before he could stop himself, a loud laugh escaped him - he had never heard anyone speak in such a way before. He quickly put a hand over his mouth to stop himself, but the girl didn't seem to be insulted. Instead, though her cheeks were a faint pink, she was smiling gently, having accepted the flaws she occasionally made. He managed to find enough control to speak normally, pretending as if the laugh had never happened. “It's... fine, really. It doesn't look like ya bothered anything.”
“I didn't.” She nodded in confirmation. “I made sure not to step on anything but the grass. I'd never want to step on anything so pretty.” Her hands clasped together behind her back. “My name's Minnie. What's yours?”
He didn't answer right away, for two reasons. The first, everyone in the village knew him, so it had been an eternity since he had made any kind of introduction. The second, even if someone had bothered to get to know him, he would never return the effort. Yet, the silence that hung in the air once again was uncomfortable, and her expectant eyes were boring into him. Resigning, he reluctantly answered. “Michael. Michael Mouse.”
“Your name is Michael Michael Mouse? Doesn't that get confusing?” But her humorous grin proved she was merely playing, but when he didn't laugh at the joke, her expression grew uneasy. “... It's nice to meet you, Mr. Mouse.” Perhaps that sign of respect would make things easier. “You've got a really amazing garden... I've never even seen half of these things!”
He was still searching for an excuse to have her return home, and was failing at it. It didn't seem like she was going to try and leave on her own, either. Though... that was genuine adoration in her eyes and voice. Despite a part of him disagreeing to it, he found himself volunteering. “... There's still more to see... if ya want to look.”
A tiny gasp came from her, and she took many steps forward, almost getting right into his face in her excitement. “Really? You mean it? Can we go see it now?”
His back met the tree again. It was nice that someone was so enthusiastic about his garden, but did she have to get that close? Those big eyes, that flowing hair, shapely lips... was it healthy for his heart to be beating this fast? Collecting himself, he cleared his throat. “Y-Yes... just, uh, follow me. And don't touch anything.” He slid away from her to the side, and walked again. She easily flounced to his side, eagerly following his every move. They talked, she of her moving experience - she was in the village to get a better education - and her delight to make new friends, while he only mentioned what the name of each plant was, and if need be, where it came from. With each new fact, she smiled brighter than the sun, and the time that had previously dragged on now flew away.
Passing the forget-me-nots, he noted to himself that he was not content anymore. Was this happiness?
He closed the book, and sighed, unsatisfied. Perhaps he should have known better - he had reread this particular novel so many times, he almost had it memorized by heart. It was foolish to think that giving it another read would ease his dull heart. Getting out of his seat, he moved to place the book back on the shelf, joining its other withered brethren. He idly glanced at the others titles, but decided no reading of them would give him the ease he desired. He was depressed, again, and there was probably only one real way to solve it.
Leaving the elaborate living room, he headed to the door all the way in the back of the mansion, leading to the gigantic backyard garden. Many years and many dollars had been invested into it, much to the protest of his neighbors. For a long time, it was the only thing that brought him a sense of purpose and any kind of happiness. Today was a warm day, with a clear sky, and once he was outside, he paused to look upwards. Would he need to re-water any of his plants? He would have to check up on every last patch of green to see if this was the case.
So he walked, with eyes drifting over every part of his majestic garden. It contained far more than just flowers. There were exotic plants from all over the world, tall trees looming in the furthest sides, and the sound of domestic bugs chirped as they passed him. When soft winds blew, they brought the entangled smells of all plant life, a perfume that could never be matched by human hands. These things brought him pleasure, and as his path continued, a smile came onto his face. As always, his garden cheered him up.
However... it wasn't at its maximum. This place did not bring him as much happiness as it used to, and he could not understand why. Something was just missing in his life, and he could not find the way to fill it. So perhaps this wasn't happiness... maybe it was contentment. A lazy satisfaction, perhaps. What was he supposed to do about it?
He would have continued lamenting this dilemma, passing by the weeping willows, when an unusual shade of red caught his eye. Back-tracking, he walked around the particular weeping willow tree, then looked downward. To his great surprise, there on the grass, nestled comfortably in the tree's shade, was a young girl, fast asleep. The audacity of someone coming into his garden - and sleeping there! - was so amazing, he had no idea what to do. With great hesitation, he dared to step closer for further inspection. Anyone else, he would have shouted and shooed them away, but this complete stranger was causing him to tip-toe.
This girl wasn't from the village, he was certain of it, as he had never seen her before from his looming windows. She was definitely younger than him by many years, though he couldn't confirm by exactly how much. She was on her side, hands flopped on top of each other, both legs on the ground, and black hair was helping to coat her face, an untied hair ribbon hanging loosely around one ear. Her dress was red, rose red, short and simplistic, and showed off more of her legs in this position than she probably intended. Her shoes were small, also red, and one was ready to fall off her left foot with enough time. Her entire body was petite, just a pretty young lady taking a nap in his garden.
What to do with her? Touching to wake her was out of the question, but he couldn't find the nerve to make sound for the same reaction either. How long had she been there? Why was she doing this? Who in the world was she? He stood there, tilting his head left, right, back and forth, struggling to find the right idea. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so perplexed.
She solved the problem for him - her shoulders yawned, and her eyelashes began to flutter. Hands pressed onto the dirt, she began to push herself up into a sitting position. He was so startled, he almost fell over backwards, and the tree supported him. The girl, not noticing him right away, yawned as she stretched her arms, with even her voice being petite. When that was finished, she began to smooth down her hair, and that's when she realized she was not alone. She crooked her head to see him, and their eyes locked.
Silence, save for the chirps of bugs. They didn't have the faintest idea of what to do about this sudden stranger, and appeared to wait for the other to make the first move. He finally broke the silence, but only because he felt rather silly for being intimidated by a little girl. “... What are ya doing in my garden?”
Her eyes widened as she understood, and she was instantly on her feet, speaking rapidly with barely any chance to breathe. “I'm so sorry! I didn't realize this place actually belonged to anyone! I just moved in next door and I was trying to see if I could grow my own garden and then I saw all of these pretty flowers over the fence so I hopped over and began to look around and then I got tired so I just thought I'd rest my eyes for a bit and I didn't think I'd actually fall asleep...” No more air was left in her lungs, forcing her to inhale deeply before continuing. “...And I'm very, very, very sorry!”
He stared at her, bewildered by the run-on sentence, and an unfamiliar sensation stirred in his throat. Before he could stop himself, a loud laugh escaped him - he had never heard anyone speak in such a way before. He quickly put a hand over his mouth to stop himself, but the girl didn't seem to be insulted. Instead, though her cheeks were a faint pink, she was smiling gently, having accepted the flaws she occasionally made. He managed to find enough control to speak normally, pretending as if the laugh had never happened. “It's... fine, really. It doesn't look like ya bothered anything.”
“I didn't.” She nodded in confirmation. “I made sure not to step on anything but the grass. I'd never want to step on anything so pretty.” Her hands clasped together behind her back. “My name's Minnie. What's yours?”
He didn't answer right away, for two reasons. The first, everyone in the village knew him, so it had been an eternity since he had made any kind of introduction. The second, even if someone had bothered to get to know him, he would never return the effort. Yet, the silence that hung in the air once again was uncomfortable, and her expectant eyes were boring into him. Resigning, he reluctantly answered. “Michael. Michael Mouse.”
“Your name is Michael Michael Mouse? Doesn't that get confusing?” But her humorous grin proved she was merely playing, but when he didn't laugh at the joke, her expression grew uneasy. “... It's nice to meet you, Mr. Mouse.” Perhaps that sign of respect would make things easier. “You've got a really amazing garden... I've never even seen half of these things!”
He was still searching for an excuse to have her return home, and was failing at it. It didn't seem like she was going to try and leave on her own, either. Though... that was genuine adoration in her eyes and voice. Despite a part of him disagreeing to it, he found himself volunteering. “... There's still more to see... if ya want to look.”
A tiny gasp came from her, and she took many steps forward, almost getting right into his face in her excitement. “Really? You mean it? Can we go see it now?”
His back met the tree again. It was nice that someone was so enthusiastic about his garden, but did she have to get that close? Those big eyes, that flowing hair, shapely lips... was it healthy for his heart to be beating this fast? Collecting himself, he cleared his throat. “Y-Yes... just, uh, follow me. And don't touch anything.” He slid away from her to the side, and walked again. She easily flounced to his side, eagerly following his every move. They talked, she of her moving experience - she was in the village to get a better education - and her delight to make new friends, while he only mentioned what the name of each plant was, and if need be, where it came from. With each new fact, she smiled brighter than the sun, and the time that had previously dragged on now flew away.
Passing the forget-me-nots, he noted to himself that he was not content anymore. Was this happiness?